Celestial
by dutiesofcare
Summary: The Doctor is watching Winnie the Pooh with their daughter and he gets overly annoyed at the Rabbit's grumpiness, and Clara needs to remind him how much alike they are. Given Peter Capaldi's new role as the voice of Rabbit on Disney live action's Winnie the Pooh.


**A/N: This is the first story on a series of twelveclara being parents oneshots that I'm working in. The stories hold no chronological order.**

 **Vanessa, this is for you. I hope it's up to your expectations!**

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The Doctor picked the child from Clara's arms, receiving grunts and cries from the kid after being pulled away from the mother's hold. He brought the infant to his torso, the baby's head resting just on his shoulder pad; he watched from the corner of his eyes as Clara exhaustedly dropped to the couch behind them.

Celeste. _Their_ child. Their most valuable treasure in life. The little girl was the perfect combination of their worst flaws and their greatest assets; she had dark blue eyes and brown hair, she had the most precious smile and sprinkles of light inside her eyes, she'd inherited Clara's one heart and — somehow arguably — the Doctor's 27 brains.

She was reaching twelve months old, although there hang an uncertainty in the air — it was hard keeping track of one's age when living aboard a _time machine._ Even if their travels had grown less frequent, at least until the toddler was a little older, there were times both Clara and the Doctor couldn't stand staying put for one second further and they dared to step in beautiful lands across all of time and space, always keeping one eye out for the possibility that _land_ would turn on them and try to have them murdered.

And they were happy. As happy as any ordinarily _extraordinary_ family could be. Even if… Even if Celeste Oswald had acquired the Doctor's _lack of sleep_ , and she would stay up for days straight, clung to Clara's chest no matter how tired the mother was. A mummy's little girl she was.

Carefully, the Doctor sat by her side — Clara had a tendency to turn him into her punching bag whenever she had reached her breaking point and couldn't possibly handle their kid anymore; he couldn't blame her. The child settled in a seating position by his lab, trading looks between her mummy and her daddy, until she rose her little arms in the air in attempts of reaching her _mummy._

Instead, the Doctor built a barrier with his long skinny arm, whispering, "I'm sorry, Celeste. Mummy is sleeping right now. Do you know what that means? Sleeping? No, of course you don't. You're too much like your daddy to be familiar with such _primitive_ concepts."

The kid squealed in response, not fully understand _why_ she wasn't given to her mother like she'd asked. Yet, the hoarse raspy sound that escaped her mother's lips was enough to open the brightest beam across her small face, "Her _primitive_ mother will drop dead soon enough if she doesn't get her _primitive_ sleep."

He was unsure whether to smile or not, but ended up mimicking the same traits from the daughter's lips. He placed a kiss to the top of the child's head, then one to Clara's forehead. "Go to bed, Clara. I'll take care of her."

The mere thought of tracking their _bedroom_ across the maze the TARDIS would most likely build for her tired her. Breaking his expectations, she leaned closer to him and rested her head on the cushion of his chest, allowing all of her weight to fall upon him. Celeste welcomed the mother's presence nearer with loud giggles and attempted claps; the Doctor wrapped one arm around his _wife,_ the other resting his palm on his child's back. "The bed is too far away."

He sniffed the brown scent of her hair and nodded. Although she hadn't admitted it out loud, he knew she just wanted to fold herself on his embrace and slowly drift off to the sound of the gurgling of Celeste that worked as a lullaby to her ears. She continued, "Just turn the telly on. She'll be distracted with whatever is playing."

The Doctor nodded once more, grabbing the remote from the far edge of the couch. He turned on the television and soon found himself in the kids session on netflix. The bright lights had already attracted the baby. He quickly pathed throughout all the options. "This netflix of yours is _useless,_ Clara. What's the point of having so many alternatives? They're _children,_ they shouldn't waste all their time in front of the television watching all these programs when there's so much more to do and to learn outside. Clara?"

When he dared to look down on her, she had already succumbed herself to unconsciousness. Her lips left a small gap between one another and her fingers tightly held onto the tee he wore. She looked peaceful, at last. He couldn't help himself but kiss her temples once more. She didn't even shift.

He just wished she could have been awake to see their daughter mimicking his movements and planting a kiss to the mother's nose, smiling at him when his features showed his approval. _God,_ he was standing between the two girls he loved the most in the entire universe and he never wanted to leave that place.

"Come on, Celeste. Let's find something to entertain ourselves while your mummy rests."

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Clara had no idea how long she had slept when she finally came back to herself. _Not enough,_ she thought, but enough to restore _some_ of her energies. Her eyes were blurry, at first, and it took them some time to adjust to the light surrounding her. She discovered she was no longer resting uncomfortably by the Doctor's side, but lying completely on her side on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her body. Her head was resting in the softest pillow she had ever lied on, although there was a pointy surface just underneath it — which she soon learned was the Doctor's sticky legs.

She squinted her eyes and made the shape of the television turned on in front of her. Only then, she realized there was a faint talk in the air; not coming from the fictional characters, but from the own ramblings of a certain Time Lord.

"We don't like the Rabbit, do we now, Celeste?! He's very grumpy and very mean to his friends. He's a very hateful character. We can't be like him, Celeste, otherwise we will end up friendless one day."

Suppressing a yawn, Clara managed to raise herself on the palm of her hands, gradually reaching a sitting position. Her hair was all messy and painted a halo around her head — she didn't care about it. There was dust piling up in the corner of her eyes and she used the tip of her fingers to get rid of it.

She was uncertain who was happier to see her awake, Celeste or the Doctor. Obviously, only one of them had the ability to express their happiness through words, "Clara! Look, mummy's _finally_ awake. We've had the most _amazing_ day, Clara, growing dull from all the telly we've watched, you wouldn't believe. We've started with that _alienphobic_ Lilo And Stitch, then The Lion King—if Celeste tells you I've cried during it, don't believe her, she's lying—and The Aristocats, and Lady and Tramp, and The Fox and the Hound—I didn't cry either, Celeste just likes to make fun of me— and, at last, here we are watching Winnie the Pooh."

It surely was _too much information_ for her still awaking brain to process; she discarded most of the titles away right after hearing them."How long was I asleep, again?"

"If I were to guess? _Whole centuries,_ Clara," he complained, trying to hold back the child who desperately seeked for her mother's arms.

Her mother instincts just couldn't deny the kid's request, and Clara delicately brought Celeste to her own lap; she giggled in joy for finally being where she _belonged._ "And you were saying the _Rabbit_ is the grumpy one."

His expressions turned baffled; the Doctor could no longer follow her line of thinking. "I'm not entirely sure of what you're insinuating, _Clara,_ but I don't particularly like it."

Clara merely shuddered, freeing her legs from the cloak she assumed the Doctor had offered her in her state of sleep. "I just don't think you should be lecturing characters that are a perfect _mirror_ of you."

He made several _inhuman_ sounds with his lips, turning his head in the weirdest angles until he crossed paths with the infant's eyes. "You see what I have to pull up with everyday, Celeste? These _outrageous_ accusations? You're very lucky I love your mummy very much."

"Don't be so dramatic, Doctor, you damn well can't deny the similarities," she scolded him, pressing her hands against the baby's ears at the sound of her cursing word.

"Name me _one_ and I'll _consider_ your allegations," he crossed his arms against his chest, "You won't be able to."

Clara loudly chuckled, mocking him. "I'll name several. For starter, you both share a constant state of _grumpiness_."

His jaw fell open as he leaned back. "This is a blasphemy! I am _never_ grumpy. In fact, if I had to call myself anything, I'd call me a constant ray of happiness and sunshine."

Clara's _uncontrollable_ and _incessant_ laughter triggered the child's own laugh. "I hope you're joking right now. There's _nothing_ of you that indicates such a _ray._ In fact, I wish you could see your own face right now so you'd see how _grumpy_ you are."

Understanding he was fighting a war he couldn't possibly win, he gave in, mumbling under his breath. "It's the eyebrows. They're crossed all the time."

Clara smiled flatly as her head traveled up and down. She carried on, "You're also mean to everybody who aren't Celeste or I, Doctor."

The Doctor threw his hands in the air. "It's not my fault if everybody else is a _pudding brain_ …!"

"Now you're just being grumpy _and_ mean," she debated, making curls in Celeste's short hair.

His mandible was twisting in ways she couldn't possibly describe, his muscles rigid from his lack of arguments. "Clara—"

Had he intended to say anything, she didn't give him the chance. "And last but not least, you _also_ dislike everybody."

"Everybody who _isn't_ you or Celeste," he defended himself with his index high, only then comprehending his assertion didn't really help his case. "I don't know what you want from me, Clara."

Shaking her head whilst smiling with her eyes, Clara leaned closer to him, until their bodies were only separated by a baby in between. "Nothing, Doctor. I love you for who you _are._ Your grumpiness and your lack of social skills to anybody but _us_ are exactly who you are. I didn't fall in love with your perfections. I fell in love with your _flaws_. Flaws that try to bring you down and instead create something far bigger than you, than you and I. It allows beauty to spread from here to the farest corners of the universe. A beauty that is born from love, Doctor. Love we build right here."

Celeste placed each of her hands to one of her parents' jawline, giving them soft pets until their lips met. She was more than thrilled at the sign of _love_ happening right in front of her, a love that had once originated her. She kissed her own tiny hands — loudly — and pressed the kisses to each of their cheeks.

When their mouths finally departed, they were simultaneously smiling at one another and at their daughter. Perhaps, they were just smiling at their _unending love._ The grumpiness of the Rabbit in the telly had completely faded into the background, just like the Doctor's grumpiness had given in to something much greater.

His devotion to the girls who had built him a home.

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 **A/N: Any feedback here or on twitter (dutiesofcare) is much appreciated :)**


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